Dreamer

 My father told me when I was a girl

That I’d never survive in this old world,

‘Cause I lived a dream of make-believe

And I wore my heart upon my sleeve.

Fresh out of high school - and eager for life –

I jumped into the ocean of turmoil and strife,

Armed only with my standards of honesty and truth,

Instilled in me in my childhood and youth.

Now I was not mean, and I was not tough,

But I certainly knew when I’d had enough –

And when I felt my reasoning was right,

I was not afraid to stand up and fight.

There were times when the going was hard –

Didn’t know if I’d make the grade –

But memories of these and lessons I’ve learned,

That’s something I never would trade.

Now I have survived to near seventy-five,

Through troubles, and sorrows, and pain,

With happiness and family I have been blessed,

Who could ask more than this, to be gained?

‘Though my father has long since departed this earth,

I’m sure that he still watches me.

I can almost see a smile on his wrinkled face,

For a dreamer’s not a bad thing to be.